


Lost & Found

by jessethejoyful



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Lost Memories, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, and chaos ensues, simon basically just forgets baz completely, simon is a forgetful boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-01-14 16:46:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18480286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessethejoyful/pseuds/jessethejoyful
Summary: Baz returns to Watford after being held captive, to find Simon has absolutely no memory of him - that Baz has been completely written out of his entire history. Who could have the power to do such ancient magic - was it the Humdrum? Or someone even more sinister?





	1. Chapter 1

**BAZ**

_“Do I know you?”_

 

The words continue to replay in my head, over and over, the worst broken record I’ve ever heard. Simon’s face as he said it, his eyes registering no recognition.

This is the last thing I expected to return to, after being trapped in that damnable numpty den for six weeks. I might not be in the state to fight, but I was prepared to, ready to take on anything else that was thrown at me. What I _wasn’t_ ready for was the slack expression Simon wore when I slammed into our room.

“Oh,” he’d said, startled at my sudden entrance. He was only half dressed, but thankfully slipped on his undershirt quickly. “Er, hi. Y’alright?”

I immediately snarled at him, exhausted already, and completely unaware of the problem. “When you’re around, never.” I threw my bags down at the end of my bed, which was covered in his discarded clothes. “Clean this shit up.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, so I finally looked up to find him staring at me, wearing an expression of mixed anger and horror. “Excuse me? What is this? Do I know you?”

Still it didn’t occur to me that anything was off. I figured he was fucking with me, trying some weird passive-aggressive method to get something out of me. “You’re hilarious, Snow. Fucking comedic.”

“How do you know my name?” It was the tone in which he said this that finally clued me in, a note of genuine confusion working into the rage.

I blinked at him a few times, trying to work it out. “You’re Simon Snow. The _Chosen One_ , or whatever. And my shit roommate.”

He looked positively bewildered. “Roommate? It’s October. I’ve always had this room to myself, why would I suddenly get a roommate six weeks into term?” His eyebrows shot down. “Did the Mage put you up to this? Is this some kind of test?”

My heart felt like it was in my throat. I almost took a step toward him, but figured he might set me on fire if he thought I was some kind of monster the Mage was testing him with. “Simon - I’ve been your roommate for six years. The Crucible cast us together.” Cast us together when we were eleven - after I’d lost my mother, my humanity, and I was given _him_ instead.

He scoffed at this, red flooding his cheeks. “This is some kind of sick joke.” He kicked the end of his bed. “The Crucible didn’t _work_ for me. No one came to me. So I got a room by myself.” His voice cracked. “I’d thought about faking it -”

“Didn’t _work_ for you?” I’d said, cutting him off. “We were drawn together, same as everyone else. You in those ratty jeans, tossing that ball around that you never put down first year.”

“This is insane,” he growled, his jaw working and the air around him beginning to smoke. “I’m going to find the Mage. This has to be some kind of mistake.” He didn’t wait, just barreled out the door without closing it behind him.

Now I’m just sitting on the edge of my bed, trying to process everything. He has absolutely no idea who I am.

_“Do I know you?”_

I shake my head and stand. I’m going to drive myself crazy just sitting here, waiting. Has everyone forgotten me? What kind of sinister magic could do that to the whole school? Or is it just Simon?

It’ll be easy enough to find out. I stride out of our room and close the door behind me, hurrying down the stairs and through the corridors until I reach Dev and Niall’s room, then bang on the door.

It swings open rather quickly, and Dev stares at me with a bored expression. “Baz,” he says in way of greeting. I push past him into their room, and Niall looks up at me from his bed.

“Oh, you’re back,” he says, sounding surprised. “Where’ve you been?”

“You both remember me, then? You know who I am?”

Dev snorts at me as he settles onto his own bed. “Of course we do. You’ve not been gone _that_ long.”

I throw my hands in the air. “Well, I went to my room just now and Snow has absolutely no clue who I am. He’s gone to find the Mage, to figure out why he’s been suddenly assigned a roommate after six years of not having one.”

Niall sits up. “You’re sure he’s not having you on?”

I shake my head. “He didn’t know me at all. He’s not a very good liar, he’s too thick to manage it, or maintain it for long.” I lean against the door and cross my arms. “He said the Crucible didn’t even cast him with anyone. It’s almost like his memories have been - altered, or something.”

“Why would anyone alter his memories?” Dev snickers. “I’m sure he can barely remember what he had for breakfast as it is.”

“This isn’t some joke,” I snap at him, but he only raises an eyebrow.

“If it is, it’s not very funny,” he yawns, back to just looking bored. I hate that he’s managed to copy my expression so well. “Maybe now he won’t try to kill you.”

“Or maybe he will, because he’ll think I’m some monster the Humdrum is sending after him.” Neither of them seem particularly concerned or interested, but I feel like I’m on the verge of tears. “Fuck it. I need some air.”

Just as I’m stepping out of Mummer’s House, I see Simon and the Mage coming toward me. They both spot me, so I can’t do anything but wait as they approach.

“Mr. Pitch,” the Mage says smoothly, stopping before me. “You’ve decided to join us once again.”

“Yes, sir,” I say just as evenly, holding myself at my full height. Beside the Mage, Simon is still looking confused, staring at his mentor as he addresses me.

“Mr. Snow says that he hasn’t the faintest idea who you are. Do you know why that might be?”

“No, sir. I’ve been trying to figure it out myself.”

The Mage narrows his eyes at me. “Altering another mage’s memories is against the law of the Coven, Mr. Pitch. If you’ve done anything -”

“It’s magic well beyond me,” I snap at him, which is only somewhat true. The spells are old and difficult, but with some study, I’m certain I could manage it. “Sir,” I add after a moment.

A few more beats pass before the Mage sighs. “I’m sure you’re right.” I keep myself from rolling my eyes as the Mage then turns to Simon. “I’ve no idea what has happened that you’ve forgotten Mr. Pitch - but I assure you, Simon, he _is_ your roommate. We were all present when the Crucible cast you two together.” He puts a hand on Simon’s shoulder, and I look away, a sour taste in my mouth. “You’re to look after each other, as brothers would.”

“But, sir -”

“Simon.” The Mage says his name firmly, and Simon falls silent. “There will be no further argument over this. We can work together to find out why your memories have been changed, but Mr. Pitch _is_ your roommate, and will continue as such for the remainder of the semester.”

It’s clear Simon wants to argue, but he doesn’t. “Yes, sir,” he grumbles, ducking his head before storming past me and into Mummer’s House. The Mage lets him go, then looks at me with a long expression. I meet his gaze.

“Do you wish to tell me where you’ve been for the last six weeks, Mr. Pitch?” he drawls, raising his eyebrows at me. “You’ll find yourself rather behind in your classes. You might not be able to catch up in time for graduation.”

“I’m certain I can manage the workload, sir,” I grind out. “My mother always heavily emphasized my learning at home, so I don’t expect I will have much trouble.” At the mention of my mother, the Mage’s expression darkens, and he draws himself fully upright.

“See that you take care, then. Good day.” He turns on his heel and marches back to the school. I watch him go and scowl at his back, feeling something ugly twist in my gut. Fear, or something like it.

I’m not ready to face Simon and his memory loss again so soon. I wait until I’m certain the Mage is gone, then start toward the Catacombs.

It’s nearly dark, and it’s black as the night inside the tomb. I’ve never been bothered by the dark, but after the last six weeks of being trapped in permanent black, I find myself panicking as the dimness settles in around me. I can’t stand to stay underground - so I catch six rats, bang their heads on the floor, tie their tails in a knot, then bring them upstairs to drain them in the courtyard under the stars that are beginning to prick up overhead.

All I can think about as I’m drinking are the things that kept me barely alive while I was stuck in that coffin -

Blue eyes.

Bronze curls.

That Simon Snow is _alive_.

And he has no idea who I am.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz has to face Simon, and try to explain why this could have happened. Simon confronts his friends as to their lack of mentioning his roommate’s absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s been a bit and sorry this isn’t super long! I’m trying to get my thoughts together on this particular fic. Big love <3

**BAZ**

I return to the room to find Simon still awake, sitting cross-legged on his bed, obviously waiting for me. I close the door slowly behind me and lean against it, meeting his gaze evenly. 

“I just want to understand what’s going on,” he says in a soft voice, and it guts me. “Where my memories have gone, what could have -  _ who _ could have caused it?” 

With nothing else to do, I move to my own bed and sit down across from him, narrowing my eyes. The cynical part of me still thinks this might be some long, extended joke, but Simon seems perfectly serious. So I say honestly, “I have no clue how this happened. I certainly didn’t do it, even if your mentor doesn’t seem to quite believe me.” 

He squints at me. “The Mage? Why wouldn’t he believe you? He said he - he remembers you.” It occurs to me that part of Simon not remembering me is him not realizing that my family has been fighting the Mage since he began his reforms. I wonder how much he knows about the situation, if he doesn’t remember having me as the buffer. 

“Let’s just say the Mage and my family have never got on,” I say tightly, kicking a leg over the edge of my bed. He squints at me but doesn’t question me any further. “What  _ do _ you remember of your life? That might be a good place to start.” I’m too tired for this tonight, but Simon has no idea who I am, which is almost worse than him hating me. I want to get to the bottom of it. 

He leans back against the wall, frowning intensely. “I - everything, I thought. The Mage coming to get me, the childrens’ homes, Penelope, Agatha - all of it.” His eyes move to meet mine again. “There’s no  _ gap _ , where you might be. Er -” He looks awkward suddenly, cutting away from my gaze. “What was your name again? The Mage just kept calling you  _ Mr. Pitch. _ ”

It’s like a stake through my chest. “You can call me Baz.” 

“Is that your name?” 

“It’s a nickname.” 

Simon seems to accept this, picking at the folds in his sheets. “Maybe it was the Humdrum. Could he have stolen my memories?” He hisses out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “But to what end? Why would he steal my memories  _ only _ of you?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He glares at me now. “Well, what are you to me? Are we friends, are we enemies, are we -” He stops, apparently startling himself. “What’s your significance in my life?” 

“Snow, I’m not sure I’m the best person to tell you that.” I don’t want to tell him that we’ve been trying to kill each other for 6 years. He’s angry about what he’s lost, but he’s not angry at  _ me _ , and it’s a welcome change. But my limbs are heavy and aching, and I feel like I might start crying, so I say, “Let’s talk to Bunce about it tomorrow. I’m sure she can fill you in on some missing pieces.” 

This earns me a grunt, like he’s surprised I know who Bunce is, when I’m supposed to be some new anomaly in his life. He’s starting to get up when I notice something glinting on his chest. “Snow. What’s that necklace for?” 

He stops in the middle of moving, looking down at where the cross is hanging from his neck. “Oh, this?” His eyebrows furrow, like he’s trying to remember. “I think the Mage gave it to me. For - warding off vampires.” He shrugs and continues up, going to change into his nightclothes. “Not that I’ve ever actually  _ met _ a vampire before.” 

I busy myself with getting ready for bed, not looking his way once, and try not to think about how odd this one slight difference is. I’m pretty sure he just bought the cross himself a few years ago to piss me off - so why does he think the Mage gave it to him? Why make that particular change?

I can practically hear Fiona screeching in the back of my mind that the Mage must be responsible. But Fiona thinks the Mage is responsible for everything (she would pin him for global warming if she could) so I tend to just ignore her. 

Besides, why would he steal  _ Simon’s _ memories? He’s basically the Mage’s son, there’d be no point to it. 

“Well, good night, then,” Simon says as he turns out his light, and just this one, weirdly normal thing is jarring, the pleasantness of it. 

“... Good night, Snow.” 

 

**SIMON**

I haven’t been sleeping well, not since the start of term. I didn’t tell anyone about it, not even Penny, because I didn’t want her to worry. 

The first night that Baz sleeps in the room with me, I sleep better than I have in months, even though I’m still awake after he’s dropped off. He falls asleep almost as soon as his head touches the pillow, long lashes fluttering shut and his breathing slowing to a sigh. I watch him, feeling like a creep but unsure of what else to do. 

The Mage said I know him. The Mage said we’ve been roommates since I began at Watford, that we were cast together at the beginning of our time here. 

So why can’t I  _ remember _ him? He’s not exactly a forgettable bloke. Even though the darkness, I can see his skin, so pale he’s practically glowing, and the sharp contours of his cheekbones. The room even  _ smells _ like him now, something woodsy I can’t quite place, but feel like I might recognize. Did the room smell like this before? 

And where’s he been at all term? He looks like he’s been starving for weeks, drawn and thin and walking with a limp he’s clearly trying to hide. 

It struck me as a bit suspicious that he won’t tell me what our relationship is like. If we’ve been roommates this whole time - surely we’re friends? Could we be anything else, living in such close quarters? Surely not. (We can’t be enemies, right?) 

I force myself to roll over and face the other direction. There’s no point in dwelling on it tonight. Penny will clear it up for me in the morning. (Unless she forgot him, too. She certainly hasn’t brought him up at any point.)

“I didn’t forget him,” Penny says after I’ve explained the situation to her, at breakfast. “I was just so thankful you’d stopped talking about him that I decided to leave it alone.” I stare at her, and she balks. “I did mention him once, at the beginning of term! I asked what you were going to do about the situation with Agatha and Basilton, and you looked at me like I was mad - so I didn’t bring it up again!” 

His full name is  _ Basilton? _ No wonder he goes by Baz. “Agatha? What situation?”

Penny groans, looking physically pained. “Baz has been trying to wheedle Agatha away from you for years. At the end of last term, just before we got snatched by the Humdrum, we caught the two of them together in the Wood, holding hands or something.” 

I look across the dining hall to where Agatha’s been sitting, alone, since the two of us broke up. She’s staring at Baz, who came in a few minutes after me. I asked him if he wanted to walk to breakfast together, but he told me to go on, and then didn’t look at me once after he came in. 

“So she was - what? Cheating on me?” I can feel the frown on my face. “And then she broke up with me?” 

Penelope shakes her head. “If you want the gritty details, Simon, you’re going to need to talk to Agatha yourself. She certainly hasn’t told me anything.” She goes back to the book she was reading, a signal to me to shut up. 

Agatha and I haven’t spoken since we broke up. She said that she couldn’t do it anymore, she didn’t want this, but now I’m suspicious. Suspicious enough that I push up from the table and cross the room to her, dropping into the seat beside her. She startles, blinking at me with her golden-brown eyes. 

“Simon,” she says, but I don’t let her go on.

“Do you remember Baz?” 

Her gaze moves immediately to where Baz is sitting with his friends, his back to us. “Remember him? I - of course I remember him. We’ve all been classmates for 7 years.” She looks back at me. “Do you not?” 

I shake my head. “Not at all. He’s somehow been removed from my memories, completely. Did you break up with me because you’re in love with him? Penny told me about the end of last term.” 

Agatha has never been easy to frazzle, but I can tell I’ve done it, by the way she suddenly slams her tea cup down on the table. “In love? With  _ Baz _ ?” Her voice sounds carefully nonchalant, and she won’t meet my eyes. “No, Simon. I broke up with you because I was tired of all the expectations that came with dating the  _ Chosen One. _ ” 

I stare at her for a moment, before getting up and returning to Penny. It was a bad idea to talk to her like that. 

And now I’m upset, my magic spilling out of my skin. Penny hisses at me to get it together. It’s not long before I hear a chair scrape on the floor and see Agatha stalk from the room, but not without a backward glance at Baz. 

He doesn’t even turn around. 


End file.
